Drunken Yuan
by Christina Jayne
Summary: Yuan gets drunk,his second Botta is concerned. THERE IS NO YAOI! One Shot!


Hey it's me again! Your one and only Christina Jayne. This time writing for Tales of Symphonia. I was Bored and had a few fic ideas. SO…. I combined them all into one! W00T! So anyway please read and review. Also if you ever happen to be on Mystic Yoshie's site,send her a big thanks and a cookie for helping me. R&R.

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"Hit me again, Scottie!" Yuan exclaimed, slamming the shot glass on his desk.

"For the last time, sir, it's Botta, not Scottie," the half-elf retorted, standing a few feet from his superior's large desk holding a large bottle of red wine. His Desian uniform looking strange on his well-built half-elf body.

"Yeah, yeah, whatever, just give me another!"

"Don't you think you've had enough? I mean look-."

"AHHH!" Yuan jumped up from his chair and leapt over his desk, tackling Botta to the ground.

"Sir!"

"Just give me the bottle!" Yuan pinned his pointy-haired friend to the ground and grabbed the wine bottle, ripping it from his hands.

"Yes, it's finally mine!" He quickly through the sweet, burning liquid down his throat, then he chucked the now drained bottle across the room where it shattered against the far wall. The sound echoed around the lifeless halls of Welgaia.

"Holy-." Botta swore, rising from the ground, "Sir, you've had far too much to drink!"

"Never Botta, never. My liver is," the angel declared, patting his stomach, "indestructible!"

"Sir, that is just a theory, not a proven fact."

Yuan walked over to his desk and all but collapsed in his chair, "Call it what you like, so, you want a drink?"

"Sir, after seeing you like this I want nothing to do with it," he shuddered.

"How could you?!" Yuan gasped.

"H-how could I what?" Botta looked worried. He was still questioning Yuan's' motive for the excessive alcohol consumption, "If you were as old as me, you'd understand." Was how Yuan put it.

_Yeah right_, thought Botta, now that he'd built up such a tolerance, and was an angle to boot, it was to twice the work, and alcohol, to get him drunk.

Today alone it had taken almost five wines, two gins, and a vodka to do any damage, and he had yet to stop drinking. Botta returned his thoughts to his drunken "Leader".

"_How _could you say something like that?"

"What are you talking about sir? You mean my not wanting a drink?"

"Goddess, there he goes again, poor soul, can't even take an offer to enjoy himself."

"Sir, you make no sense." Botta shifted uncomfortably, he hoped he would not have to resort to drastic measures… again.

"I make no sense? Botta, my dear friend, I believe that would be _you_. Passing up offers for a drink, now that's nonasensick!" Yuan continued his ramble, it growing more and more inaudible.

"Lord Yuan, I don't think _non-a-sens-sick _is a word."

_I swear, _thought Botta angrily, _one more stupid comment like that and I'm going to have to…_ It was better that he didn't finish that thought.

"Who gives a flying femboy?"

"Sir…?" But Botta gave up, Yuan was too far gone to care, and he himself was quickly losing sanity. "If you don't stop, I will have to resort to drastic measures."

"No! You don't mean…?"

"…Yes."

"You even _debate_ doing that and I will send you up to Yggdrasill, gift-wrapped with at tag that says, _"Hi, I'm Botta, the leader of the Renegades!"_

Despite the warning, Botta brought his hand around and slammed his palm into Yuan's face, hard.

"Son of a B-," but before he could finish the statement, the door "wooshed" open, reveling a very angry Kratos Aurion.

"_You!"_ cried Yuan, melodramatically pointing at the man framed in the doorway.

Botta, thinking quickly, grabbed a heavy paperweight off his superior's desk and slammed it into the blue-haired half-elf's head. Yuan fell unconscious with a soft "uhg".

"That should do it, my Lord Aurion," said Botta, quickly slipping into the role of Desian lackey, "Your timing is superb." Kratos smirked, before turning to their unconscious friend.

"Dare I ask how much he had this time?"

"Far too much, I'm afraid," Botta gestured around the room to where bottles and glasses were strewn across the floor. "And there's still more."

"Humph, that is more than last time," Kratos looked almost concerned, "I suppose I will be able to handle it from here, thank-you Desian." Already far too used to this happening, Kratos set to work patching up Yuan and picking-up the broken glass that was strewn across the floor.

Botta slipped out of the office, quietly passing through the many passages of Welgaia, _I really need a new job _he thought vaguely.

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Thanks for reading. R&R.


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